The other night when Husband to Be and I were flipping through the channels, there was a pie bake-off on Food Network. I told him to change the channel because if we started watching, inevitably I’d want pie. But it was too late, the damage had been done. So off we went into the cold night in search of pie.
How can I not love a man who takes me to get pie when I want pie, no cajoling necessary?
As were leaving the restaurant, bellies full of pie (pecan pie and apple, respectively, á la mode of course), the song “Love Fool” came on.
It’s a silly song, but one strongly associated with senior year of high school. I was a classic late bloomer. Shy and awkward, I didn’t date until college. I was simply invisible to boys. The romance in my life consisted of a long series of intense crushes on boys who didn’t know my name. I didn’t have the first idea of how to interact with guys or what love was really like, in all its messy glory. All I had was fantasy, with only wishing, waiting, and hoping to sustain me. The hope that someday someone would see me.
So to hear that song now, and think of how far I’ve come since then, driving home next to the man I’m going to marry, someone sexy and loving and amazing, who sees me, who gets me, who delights in me…well it feels pretty damn good.
just an ordinary girl
with an ordinary life that you have chosen
but you’re the fire in the snow
though i believe that i’m the only one who knows it
-jayhawks
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